When I first step onto the track a shot of adrenaline pumps through my body. The rush of competition always at your heels. My heart beats hard to escape from my chest. Everything moves in slow motion and with tunnel vision. Eventually my adrenaline runs out because I either win or lose the race. When I win a race I am proud, happy and determined. The first emotion I feel is the pride of having met the expectations of my coaches and the pride of having made my parents happy. I also feel determined to continue training and beating the clock and I'm happy knowing I'm the best in my race. Most of all, happy to have achieved something in my life. But on the track nothing is set in stone. When I lose a race I feel guilty, unhappy and above all useless. I feel guilty because I let my teammate, my coaches and my parents down. I could never look them in the eye after a losing game. I also feel unhappy knowing that I can't win the race because if I had to push myself to 120% it would be useless how I feel after losing a race. I feel like I'm taking up space on the bus and no one notices me like I'm a ghost. Getting on the track has always been a crazy journey, up and down. Jesse Jackson said: “If you fall behind, run faster. Never give up, never give up, and rebel against all odds” (Jackson 1). That whatever the outcome, never give up, always look forward